


The Day Spencer Went to Chess Club

by Zelofheda



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelofheda/pseuds/Zelofheda
Summary: They all thought that Spencer couldn't get into any trouble when he went to Chess Club.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98





	The Day Spencer Went to Chess Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themetaphorgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetaphorgirl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Patron Saint of Lost Causes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442195) by [themetaphorgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetaphorgirl/pseuds/themetaphorgirl). 



> This is set in the universe of Patron Saint of Lost Causes, an AU where the members of the BAU are teenagers at a boarding school. Go read it if you haven't already.  
> Also, check out her tumblr for more Patron Saint goodies. :-)
> 
> Thank you, metaphorgirl, for letting me play in your sandbox. :-)
> 
> This drabble takes place after Chapter 10 of Patron Saint of Lost Causes, on the Monday after the disastrous football game against Crievefield.

"Sorry, Anderson, but _Trigonometry for Dummies_ is already checked out. But if you need help with your math class, you could ask Spencer."

Spencer glanced up at the sound of his name, seeing Alex walking towards him, and Anderson trailing behind. Alex looked faintly exasperated -- Spencer had noticed that Anderson often seemed to have that effect on her, but he hadn't quite yet figured out why. Anderson looked desperate at first, and then dubious when he glanced over to where Spencer was sitting in the window seat. 

"I'm good at math," Spencer told him, trying to sound reassuring. "Which class are you in?"

"Algebra/Trig," Anderson replied, sounding despondent. "With Ms Barnes."

Alex made a sympathetic little noise. "She's a tough one."

"What are you working on?" Spencer got up and went over to the nearest table. Anderson followed, putting down his backpack and getting out his math book.

"You really understand this?" Anderson asked when he'd finally found the right page.

Glancing down, Spencer felt his brain light up happily at the sight of the numbers and familiar equations. "Yeah, I really do."

They worked for a good long while, and just when Spencer was starting to think that he was making a little headway with Anderson -- not enough to get him to love math the way that Spencer did, or even like it, but perhaps enough to help him understand the basic concept of that particular unit -- the other boy suddenly straightened up. "Okay, thank you so much, I think I might just survive Ms Barnes to-morrow, but now I have to get to Chess Club."

"They have a chess club here?" Spencer asked in surprise. He'd completely missed it during extracurricular sign-ups, but mostly because he'd only been waiting for Hotch to buy him an ice cream afterwards. Maybe he should have paid more attention.

"Oh, you play chess? Yeah, we've got a club, it's really fun. You can come with me if you want. We have an uneven number of students, so when we pair off, one of us always ends up with Mr Gideon as a partner. He spends most of the time walking around checking on everybody else, though, so you hardly get to play. It was me last time." Anderson grimaced at the memory.

Spencer was almost getting used to being included in things, but it was still such a pleasant novelty, especially from somebody outside of his new group, that he gave Anderson a genuine smile. "Yeah, I could come."

He quickly gathered his stuff together, and on his way out of the library, he gave Alex a wave. "I'm just going to Chess Club with Anderson, I'll see you later."

"Don't get him into any trouble," Alex told Anderson, shooting him a very significant look.

"At _Chess Club?_ " Anderson sounded almost insulted.

Conceding the point, Alex relaxed enough to smile at Spencer. "All right, have fun!"

Most of the club members were already in Gideon's classroom when they arrived, pushing desks back to back and getting out the chess sets. Spencer looked around, and when he didn't see anybody who'd teased or bullied him so far, he sighed inwardly in relief -- 

"Hey, runt-head, what are you doing here?"

His heart sinking, Spencer turned and stared up in dismay at the boy who'd come up behind him. He didn't know his name, but he'd seen that face before. It belonged to one of the players on the football team, who now all seemed to have it in for him. Feeling the beginnings of panic and fear, Spencer shot a suspicious glance over to Anderson, wondering if he'd set him up, if this were all a trap. Far from gloating, however, Anderson just looked bewildered.

"I asked him to come," Anderson explained. 

The older boy ignored him, still glaring down at Spencer with his face twisted in repugnance. "Do you even know how to play?"

"Yes," Spencer stated simply.

"Did your daddy teach you the moves? Let you win against him?" the boy sneered. "Bet you've never played against a real adult before."

"I've played against adults." Spencer wanted to ask, "Have you?" but bit it back, not wanting to antagonize the boy any further. He also didn't bother to correct him that it had been his mom who'd taught him, not his dad, and she had never let him win.

"Well, come on, then, show me if you're good enough for Chess Club." The older boy took a seat at one of the nearby desks and made an elaborate wave of invitation for Spencer to sit down across from him. "Set up the board, I'll even let you play white."

Spencer put the pieces where they belonged and made his opening move. The boy responded quickly, and the game was on. Soon enough, somebody slipped a chess clock onto the table, and each time he used it, the older boy slammed his hand onto the button so hard that Spencer worried he'd smash the entire thing. Eventually, Spencer moved his rook and announced, "Checkmate."

"What," the other boy said, staring at the board, then lifting his head in sheer disbelief. "You can't win. You--"

He glanced down again, visibly trying to work out what he'd overlooked and how he'd lost.

"Wow, you just beat the best player in the club!" Anderson gushed from behind Spencer. "Hey, Mr Gideon, did you see that?"

His face red with fury, the older boy stood up, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, and Spencer prepared to duck. But after glaring around the circle of students who had gathered to watch them play, and who would all be witness to what he did next, the older boy obviously thought better of lashing out, and simply stalked away. Spencer turned in his seat to keep an eye on him, just in case, and saw him stop to speak to Mr Gideon, who was leaning against the wall just inside the door.

"Uh, yeah, Mr Gideon," the boy said, and Spencer could hear that he was trying very hard to control his voice and not shout with rage. "So, I, uh, just came by to say that I won't be, uh, coming to Chess Club anymore. I've got football things to do from now on."

He emphasized the word "football" like a verbal kick, and Spencer knew suddenly that the other boy was lying, that he was too humiliated to stay in Chess Club now that he'd not just lost a game, but had lost it to the ten-year-old runt who was, apparently, single-handedly responsible for the football team's recent defeat and everything else that might go wrong for the players in the future as well. He wondered if Mr Gideon could see through the pretense, too.

But Mr Gideon merely said, "I'm sorry to hear that. You know you're always welcome to come back after football season is over."

The boy shot Spencer one last malevolent glance before he went out, but Mr Gideon either didn't notice, or chose to ignore it. Instead, he came forward with a smile. "Well, Mr Reid. If I'd known you played chess, I would have invited you to sign up, but it's never to late to join. Congratulations on your win."

"Thank you," Spencer said, because that was the expected response, and his lips moved automatically into the well-worn little half-smile that he'd perfected for situations like these. Inside, however, he knew he hadn't won. He'd just made things worse for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are welcome!


End file.
